Page 16 of The Boy I Once Loved

“Ouch! What was that for?!”

“One. I am not your bro; I happen to be a girl.” I stare pointedly at him.

“Believe me, I know,” he mutters under his breath.

“Second, you can’t refer to girls as hoes.”

He chuckles again; the sound sending my body all warm and fuzzy. I am far too comfortable in his arms like this. It feels the most natural and right thing in the world. “Okay, not all girls. Not you.”

I lift my head and rest it on my arm on his chest. “Why not me? You don’t know what sexual shenanigans I got up to for the last three years! I could have been sleeping my way around my old school.”

“Nah, not you,” he laughs. “You were always an old romantic.”

I huff and firmly pull myself from him and sit up on my bed. “Yeah, well, people dying and letting you down can make you change. I’m not some pure virgin waiting for my Mr forever you know.”

He holds up his hands in defeat. “Hey, okay, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. You’ll just always be perfect in my eyes, El, and too good for any guy around here.”

I pick at my fingernails. “No one is perfect Dylan, especially not me. I’ve done things I’m not proud of these last three years.” Things that if I told him about them, it would smash that idealised opinion, he has of me. He still sees me as a sweet little girl, but she is long gone.

“Okay, I am a growing boy and I need feeding.”

I snort and snuggle back into my pillow and roll onto my side. “Well, you know where the kitchen is. I’ll have scrambled eggs and bacon on toast, please.”

A sharp slap to my arse makes me yelp. I sit up and glare at him. “Did you just slap me on my bum?”

He sniggers “Bum. Are we like five again El?” He grabs hold of my hands and pulls me up. “Come on. I’ll make the eggs and you grill the bacon.”

“Wait. I need to pee first.”

He holds out his hands and pats his chest “Climb on up then. I need to tell you now though; I draw the line at wiping your ham sandwich.”

I flush red despite trying not to. “I have hands. I can wipe my lady parts just fine thank you.”

“Okay, so can you pull your undies down yourself?” He asks me amused.

I grit my teeth and scowl at him. “Just pass me my crutches and wait here, please.”

He hands me my crutches and taking them; I hobble to my ensuite. I lean on my crutches as I try with my other hand to pull down my shorts and knickers. It takes a few minutes, but I eventually get them down far enough to safely not pee on them. Holding the sink with my other hand, I slowly lower myself on to the toilet only for one of my damn crutches to lurch forward just before I sit down. I, therefore, end up bare arsed on the cold tiled floor. "Fucking ankle," I groan.

There’s a tap on the door. “You okay in there? I heard a bang.” His voice sounds full of humour and smugness and I want to tell him to go fuck himself.

“I fell on the floor,” I groan. “I can’t get back up.”

“Okay, I’ll come in and rescue you.”

"No! Wait!" I shout back, panicked. "You can't come in. I mean, my pants are around my ankles. My lady bits are showing."

He chuckles, and it just makes me want to punch him. “Look, I promise I won’t look at your err...,” he laughs, “your lady garden.”

"Fuck off laughing, Dylan. I hate you right now. This is all your damn fault."

“Okay, I’m coming in, try to cover yourself.”

My hands dart to cover my vagina. This is unbelievably humiliating. He opens the door, and his grin is from ear to ear. I wag a finger at him in warning. "Take that smug look off your face and don't you dare laugh. I want eyes up here on my face the entire time."

He crosses his heart as he tries to reign in his laugh and he walks over to me, keeping his gaze on my face. Dylan crouches down and lifts me under my armpits onto the toilet seat. He stands there not moving and I point to the door. “Leave please, you are not staying in here while I pee.”

He rolls his eyes at me before silently leaving the room and closing the door. I have never emptied my bladder as quick. “Okay, you can come back in.”

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